The King and The Conflict

In the heart of pain,
A mind full of games,
Everything is a conspiracy,
Judgments shrouded conspicuously,

In this day and age,
Failure becomes the rage,
Easier to think in disdain,
Than take the reins of fate,

The who, what and why of life,
Still remain at large,
Nobody told me,
I had to fight this hard,

Some battles are easier,
Some we are supposed to win,
But there are others,
That we are forced to forfeit,

It’s a matter of pride and I have tried so hard,
Yet poetry flows when I fall down and stop,
The words ebb and flow,
Thoughts come and go,
Depressive realism is a state where everything dulls but grows,
In the fear of repression,
I don’t care if this is obsession,
I over think, I over analyze, I over criticize,
But I know what’s the truth,
I am that man, who I can know can go miles beyond,
If I set my mind to eclipse this horizon and just accept the truth,

Yet here I am, I don’t understand,
Maybe God has a better plan?
I have faith but I’d finally like something concrete,
Like all men dwindling over fate,
Something to cement the cause would be enough to lay the demons to rest in peace,

This might no longer be an art, this might just be a catharsis,
But this pawn just hit a conflict and it can’t think like a king,
Fiona knows it better when she tells the mind to keep its might,
It’s good to realize your own will just when you enter the ring,
The body might get battered but your resolve should survive,

It might last a few days or it might last for some time,
You are born to die but its better if you learn to survive.

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About hackback

Everyday I'm shufflin.
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